


Chitty Chitty Prompt Prompt

by Corvin



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, Spooning, Swearing, Wedding Dates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:32:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 7,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3722179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corvin/pseuds/Corvin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all my prompt fills from tumblr compiled on AO3 for your convencience~</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off Reg's post: "when my mother keeps trying to foist imminent parenthood on me and i just want cats" Which she said I could turn into a fic.

“My mum keeps trying to foist imminent parenthood on me and I just want cats.” Was the first thing out of Eggsy’s mouth as he barged through Harry’s door first thing in the morning. 

The barging wasn’t new. Eggsy had taken to barging into Harry’s home, office, even personal space ever since Harry had returned from Kentucky. In fact, Harry was even a little grateful it was morning, and not the middle of the night. Although he would have liked a bit of warning, instead of being caught off guard in his dressing gown. 

Though Eggsy’s statement that caught Harry off guard. 

“Cats?” He asked, catching Eggsy by the arm. If he didn’t Eggsy would wander up to his office and get into his good scotch. Harry wasn’t sure when it had become a habit, but that scotch was four hundred pounds a bottle and he wasn’t going to have Eggsy guzzling it down. 

“Hm? Yeah,” Eggsy obediently took his foot off the stairs and followed Harry towards the kitchen. “JB is my baby, don’t get me wrong. But I always liked cats better’n dogs.” 

“I see.” That didn’t explain Eggsy on his doorstep in little more than his pajamas talking about his mother and parenthood. “And something about children?” 

Eggsy threw his hands up, leaning his hip against the dining room table in a way Harry pretended to disapprove of. “She says since I’m being responsible I should… The fuck was it, find a nice girl and settle down?” 

Harry paused minutely, but didn’t falter in making the instant coffee that it pained him to keep around. Leave it to Merlin to use his absence to get Eggsy hooked on the awful stuff. “Does she?” 

“I think it’s ‘cuz she and my dad had me by the time they were my age.” Eggsy’s voice softened but drew closer. Harry turned to hand him the cup of coffee before tending to his own, half made tea. Eggsy leaned against the counter, blowing idly at his mug. “She says she doesn’t want me to be alone.” 

Harry pursed his lips, adding a very small amount of German rock sugar to his tea. “It’s said,” He began slowly, “that man is a pack animal. That it benefits us not to be alone.” 

“I’m not alone,” Eggsy scoffed, turning to rest his head against Harry’s shoulder. He’d taken to doing that fairly often as well. “I got you.” 

“Not in the romantic sense.” Eggsy’s whole body slumped further against Harry and he blinked. “That’s what I’m sure your mother meant.” 

“It definitely was.” Eggsy grumbled, pulling away and sipping his coffee. “S’how I meant it too.” 

Harry frowned. Eggsy spoke like that sometimes. Muttering things that barely made sense, pouting like a brat who wasn’t getting his way. Harry adored the expression on his face, even though it generally confused him. 

He drank his tea standing up in the kitchen, watching Eggsy closely. The more time passed, the tenser Eggsy’s shoulders became. He’d stopped drinking his coffee, and was instead staring down into it. 

He had a very beautiful profile, Harry often noted looking at him. A strong nose, delicate lips, a noble jaw. Harry had noticed that Lee was a handsome young man but it had been in a distant, casual observational way. 

Eggsy was anything but casual. He was like all the best physical qualities of Lee and Michelle molded into something that had been through Hell and back and only came back stronger and more gracious for it. If Harry was honest with himself, he hadn’t thought of Eggsy in a platonic way for a long while. 

“For fuck’s sake, Harry.” Eggsy exclaimed, suddenly slamming his mug on the counter. “A guy says he likes you and you just stand there like he didn’t say nothing? Is that how a gentleman rejects someone?” 

Harry frowned again, deeper. “I beg your pardon?” 

It briefly looked as though Eggsy would lose his temper, his face was redder than Harry had ever witnessed. Had he missed something? 

“I like you,” Eggsy kept his eyes on Harry’s tea as he said it. “I told my mum, I don’t wanna find a nice  _girl_ to settle down with. I like you, Harry.” 

Oh.

“I see.” It was a strange feeling, not being able to express his thoughts, feelings, or emotions on the matter. On the one hand there was the fact that this was exactly what he wanted and had always thought beyond him. On the other hand there was the fact that Eggsy looked humiliated and vaguely betrayed. Ah yes, because he thought Harry was simply ignoring his feelings. How long had he had such a ridiculous notion? “I hadn’t realized. I apologize, Eggsy.”

“It’s fine,” Eggsy said quietly. He gestured to the counter, where the coffee had sloshed when he slammed it down, creating a little puddle. “I’ll clean this up then, get out of your way.”

Harry went to grab the mug first, but then felt emboldened to change it to wrapping an arm around Eggsy’s shoulders. If Eggsy was genuine in his feelings, then Harry was clearly at fault for the stagnating of their relationship. He pulled Eggsy close to him. It was a clumsy sort of embrace, but Eggsy turned to him with a quickness that said he’d been waiting for touch.

“I like you too,” He said into Eggsy’s hair. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that you feel the same.”

Eggsy snorted, wrapping his arms around Harry’s ribs. “Don’t sound so excited.”

There was a laugh in his voice that told Harry it was okay to smile. He kissed Eggsy’s temple and said, “Clean up your mess, I’ll make breakfast.”

As far as confessions went, Harry had experienced far more eloquent and amorous ones in his life. But never one so genuine, so perfect, never one he returned so keenly he couldn’t keep a goofy smile off his lips. He looked at Eggsy, and found the same smile on his face as well.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't actually prompted to me. I just wanted to do it.

Harry sits at a table, sipping his tea while he reads the paper. It’s a bit nippy outside, but Harry has always preferred colder weather. 

  
He glances up when some young men walk by. They’re joking about, ribbing each other good naturedly despite their rough dress. Harry enjoys to see that sort of thing, people being decent to each other.   
  


Then he notices the middle one, in a snapback and coat that can’t nearly be warm enough. He’s smiling, grinning really with his teeth and dimples showcased perfectly.   
  


Harry is struck. He continues sipping his tea, but the young men are loitering near the corner, so he’s in perfect view.   
  


“You got a fuckin’ problem?” The middle one, the lovely one is glaring at Harry defensively and stalking up to his table. “Tryin’ ta stare us down cuz you think you bettah?”    
  


After recovering from a brief moment of shock, Harry folds his paper. “Not at all, you just have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen.”   
  


The young man blinks, red creeping into his face. “uh.”   
  


“I apologize for offending you, I hadn’t realized I was staring.”   
  


“S'alright,” the young man looks down. “Didn’t mean to yell at you or nothin’, just…”   
  


He trails off and Harry smiles at the bashful look on his face. Well, in for a penny he supposes. “I hope I’m not being too forward, but may I buy you a drink?” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> never-not-ever-again said: "I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice." and of course hartwin oh man

Eggsy remembered a time when he would look in the mirror with trepidation. He didn’t like what he saw, he didn’t like who he was. But lately, it was starting to change. It began with the suit, the bespoke one in navy blue with flattering pinstripes. Eggsy had stared in the mirror and felt an echoing sense of the pride he wanted Harry to feel.

After everything was said and done, when the world was saved, when Harry miraculously returned, when Eggsy was offered a spot in the Kingsman as Galahad to Harry’s Arthur, Eggsy still had to cling to Harry.

He recognized the idea that he had some personal worth. He believed the people around him, the ones who leaned on him, the ones who loved him. But there was always the underlying notion that it was all a lie. Who would ever really look at Eggsy and see anything other than a thug with no future and no hope?

Even when he started bringing home more money, keeping his mum and sister in a nice house, with nice clothes and plenty of food he couldn’t shake the feeling of being completely low class.

He’d walk into Kingsman HQ and feel like an imposter.

The second thing, and really, the biggest thing that started to inspire a stronger change of mind was Harry. It wasn’t just the words that Harry spoke, or the meals he cooked for Eggsy, or even their strolls through town with JB trotting along on his leash. It was the looks he would catch, out of the corner of his eye, or in a convenient reflective surface.

Harry would gaze at him with a look that puzzled Eggsy for weeks until one day in the park. Some bloke was proposing, on one knee with a stupidly expensive ring and everything. Eggsy had stopped, like many others to watch the outcome. And he recognized softness that overtook the man’s features, the adoration warm and fierce in his eyes, the trembling, hopeful quirk of his mouth.

Eggsy looked harder for those things the next time he’d seen Harry. He could still remember every detail about that day. The sky was overcast as usual, but not overly cold. Eggsy had worn his spotted tie because he and Roxy liked to match their patterns every now and then. It was 12:22PM on the third of October, when Eggsy realized that Harry Hart was staring at him lovestruck.  

Even in the present Eggsy’s stomach whooped with joy and anticipation for when Harry would finally tell him. He’d nurtured his own crush for months, so he reveled in the idea of Harry pining for him as well. Especially when he caught the looks, because he could believe in someone like Harry, at least until he learned to really believe in himself.

…

The mentality lasted almost four weeks before Eggsy couldn’t take it anymore. Sure he hadn’t outright said anything, but he’d been dropping more than enough hints for Harry to pick up on. Unless the daft prick thought Eggsy just  _loved_ taking his shirt off. (Which he actually didn’t lately since he’d been putting extra ‘healthy’ weight.)

Eggsy was done waiting.

He checked in with Merlin first, however, lest they end up in an embarrassing situation.

“I’m planning to seduce Harry,” He said, when he found Merlin in his office. “Can I get radio silence for a couple hours?”

Merlin didn’t look the slightest bit surprised. He even finished reading the memo in his hands before he answered. “This can’t wait until he’s home?”

“Maybe,” Eggsy shrugged, then remembered gentlemen didn’t shrug. “But if I did it now you lot would have to stop putting up with us that much quicker?”

He didn’t bother asking when Merlin figured it out. Harry was an elegantly subtle man, but Eggsy was still refining the art himself. Even if he had been trying to hide his feelings the past couple of weeks, Merlin and Roxy knew him too well to be fooled.

“That’s true.” Merlin sighed, crossing his arms as he swiveled to face Eggsy. “And just to get this out of the way now, if you hurt him, I will kill you.”

Eggsy had expected the threat, but expecting was different from hearing it in Merlin’s deep brogue. He didn’t doubt it for a second. But then again, Eggsy could relate, he remembered what he felt when he saw that scar on Chester King’s neck. Wondering if the old snob had sent Harry to his death, had betrayed a man so good and so wonderful. That was a death he’d never regret, one that he’d look back on in cold satisfaction.

He smiled, but his tone was all rumbling threat when he said, “Ditto, mate.”

Merlin nodded once and turned back around.

Eggsy took the dismissal and went to find Harry. It wasn’t hard, paperwork had been piling up since the agents had been working almost non-stop. Harry was in his office, staring down at his computer and typing rapidly.

“Thought Merlin said he wanted us wearing the glasses when we used the computer.” Was Eggsy’s way of announcing himself. Something about the lenses having a special coating to protect their eyes.

“They were starting to give me a headache.” Harry stopped typing almost immediately and leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. Eggsy took the opportunity to look at the spider web scarring at the underside of Harry’s left eye. He wondered if Harry ever didn’t have a headache. “What can I do for you, Galahad?”

“No codenames right now,” Eggsy stepped in and closed the door behind him. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

Harry’s posture stiffened. “If I’ve made you uncomfortable—”

“Don’t be stupid,” Eggsy snorted. He was sauntering towards the desk and loosening his tie, who could possibly misread that. “How long have you been in love with me?”

He walked around the desk, pushing Harry’s laptop aside so he could lean against the edge. Harry looked calm, but his eyes were darting all over Eggsy, as if trying to figure out some hidden message behind what was being clearly broadcasted.

Eggsy sat fully on the desk, and then leaned forward to tug on Harry’s tie. He went obediently to his feet and stood between Eggsy’s thighs. “I wanted to protect you,” he said; which was strange, because the last thing Eggsy needed protection from was Harry’s affection. “I wanted you to get your own life.”

Rather than try and argue, Eggsy just started to loosen Harry’s tie as well. “Do you want to know how long I’ve been in love with you?”  

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off this post : http://thexth.tumblr.com/post/109999824026/my-favourite-fanfic-trope-is-for-some-reason-we
> 
> It wasn't actually prompted to me, once again inspiration just struck for better or worse, nyehehe.

“Merlin,” Eggsy hissed only after Harry went to take a shower. “There’s only one bed in here, mate.”

[ _“Yes, I know.”_ ]

“But-”

[ _“And you’re both adults, so if I hear one word of complaint I’ll have you sleep in a cardboard box behind a petrol station on your next mission.”_ ]

Eggsy hugged, taking off my glasses. “Don’t have to bite my head off,” he muttered.

The bed was queen size, easily large enough for both of them, but not large enough for him, Harry, and his massive crush on Harry. It was embarrassing, it was, but he couldn’t think of another solution. Sleep on the floor? No way Harry would let him, and no way he would let Harry. The room was their hiding spot for the night, simply getting another was out of the question (Merlin said so.)

Eggsy jumped when he heard the shower turn off. Fuck. He hurriedly changed to his pajamas, a gift from Harry last Easter and tucked himself in on the far left of the bed. Any further and he’d be hanging off the side, but he’d slept in worse places.

Harry came out a few minutes later, also dressed for bed, his hair only slightly damp. “Would you mind if I read for a bit?”

“Knock yourself out,” Eggsy said with faux nonchalance. He was lying stiff as a board with his back to Harry and his face buried in his pillow. Even if light did bother him, he wouldn’t be able to see it.

He felt the blankets move and the mattress shift. Eggsy could see in his mind’s eye, Harry sitting up in bed, reading from a tablet where he kept digital copies of all the books that lined the shelves in his bedroom. So domestic, it shouldn’t have turned Eggsy on as much as it did. He snuggled further into his pillow and sighed. “Goodnight Harry.”

“Goodnight Eggsy.”  

 

Eggsy woke up in increments the next morning, until he was fully conscious and staring happily at the blackout curtains over the hotel window. He’d have to remember to get those installed in his room, and in Harry’s guest room for how often he slept there. He wondered if Harry was up yet, Eggy hadn’t bothered to check his mobile, so he had no idea what time it was.

If Harry was up, Eggsy thought it was rather rude of him to just wander off. Still, Eggsy wouldn’t complain, not when he was bundled up in the middle of the comfortable bed, warm and content and—

Oh, of course. Clearly he hadn’t been as fully conscious as he thought, because he was only just becoming aware of the arm draped over his waist, the face nuzzled into his hair, and the taller, firm body spooning up against him. Eggsy shifted, then froze, yup, that was morning wood pressed against his arse. Eggsy’s own cock twitched in interest and he mentally scolded it.

Harry murmured something and hugged Eggsy tighter. Eggsy cursed the thin, but luxuries material of his pajamas, they did nothing to protect him from the rigid heat as Harry snuffled and moved his hips.

Eggsy was torn; on the one hand, this was honestly one of his private fantasies, but on the other, he wasn’t so fucking low that he’d take advantage of the situation. Eggsy didn’t try to move away, Harry was a light sleeper and Eggsy didn’t fancy being almost killed in sixteen different ways. So he cleared his throat loudly, hoping that would be enough.

It was. Harry immediately tensed up, and Eggsy felt a long exhale of air against the back of his neck. There was a moment, a pause where Eggsy was sure Harry was cataloguing all their points of contact. Eggsy yelped when Harry moved his arm and it inadvertently brushed over his groin.

Harry paused again. Eggsy gulped, “Good morning Harry.”

“Good morning Eggsy.” Eggsy almost wanted to kick him for sounding so perfectly composed.

“Have a good sleep?”

“Quite.” Harry started to remove his hand again, this time with more care, but Eggsy caught his wrist.

“Got a question, Harry.” His red face burned hotter than he’d ever felt, but Eggsy had the strangest ‘now or never’ feeling. He knew Harry, knew this would hurt any chance Eggsy might ever have with him. Harry stopped moving, so Eggsy asked. “How does a gentleman show he’s interested?”

The curtains grew more and more interesting the longer Harry’s silence continued. Eggsy wondered if he should have just let the man leave the bed with their dignity intact, but then Harry hummed, “It depends on his intentions.”

Eggsy licked his lips, the hand holding Harry’s wrist was practically shaking. “And what if he’s been mad for the other party for a long time now?”

Once again Harry took his time in answering, but his thumb rubbed circles on Eggsy’s hip. It was enough to ground Eggsy while he waited.

Harry kissed his shoulder, “Then it sounds like something he and the other party should discuss once they’re out of hostile territory.”

Eggsy whined, pushing his bum back against Harry, “Can’t we at least get off a bit?”

“After we brush out teeth.” Harry patted Eggsy’s hip and rolled out of bed.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> androdea said: Hartwin, 6!
> 
> I believe this prompt was "is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

Eggsy wasn’t sure what pissed him off more, the fact that he was sent away today of all days for a mission in Milan, or the fact that Arthur OK’d it. He knew when they got together that Harry would continue to hold them to a certain amount of professionalism, but this was ridiculous.

His sunglasses hid the angry scowl on his face, but not the tense set of his shoulders. Tourists and locals alike parted for him as he stalked down the street, following the GPS on his glasses.

Honestly he didn’t ask for much out of the relationship. He knew he was twenty-seven years younger than Harry, and clever as he was, wasn’t nearly as educated; And  _sure_ Harry had to tell him not to eat macaroni and cheese with his hands, but Eggsy was still a human being dammit! A human being who should be spending the day getting showered with gifts and more sex than he would know what to do with.

[ _“Stop pouting, you’re spooking people.”_ ]

“Piss off,” Eggsy growled.

Was it completely ridiculous to think that Harry should have some modicum of respect for him? Or at the very least, something in the way of affection? Was Eggsy such a child that Harry felt he could just ship him off whenever it suited him, even on one of the most important days of the year?

Eggsy sighed. It was probably his fault somehow. After all, he was the one who spilled Harry’s expensive whiskey. He was the one who stuck a vacuum hose to Harry’s stomach and yelled, “liposuction!” He was the one who ate goldfish crackers with chopsticks and called it sushi.

[ _“You’re humming Freebird.”_ ]

“I said piss off, you fucking nerd.” Eggsy bit his lip to cut off a longer tirade.

Merlin snorted in his ear, because he was a sarcastic bastard who took delight in torturing Eggsy. [ _“Left here, you’re in the Cloister Suite with the garden view.”_ ]

“Suite?” Eggsy blinked. “Really?”

[ _“Yes, Galahad, a suite. Would you prefer something cozier?”_ ]

“Piss off.” Eggsy took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his pocket. He wasn’t in the mood for sass, awesome room or not at—he turned left—the Four Seasons Hotel Milano. Wow.

As he checked in and rode the elevator Eggsy felt his bad mood abating. If he was staying here for the duration of the mission then maybe he wouldn’t throw a fit the next time he saw Harry.

He opened the door and took in the room. It was gorgeous and fancy, champagne in an ice bucket, candles lit, flowers… Eggsy blinked, a smile stretching across his face. He practically skipped to the sleeping area, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“I think this is my room, sir.” He leaned against the wall, loosening his tie as he took in the sight of Harry, sitting with his long legs stretched out, casually sipping from a champagne flute. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

Harry smiled, “Happy Anniversary Eggsy.”

What do you know, Eggsy did get to spend the day having more sex thrown at him than he knew what to do with.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bulletproof-gentleman said: HARTWIN BBY #42. "I swear it was an accident."

“Sir,Mr. Unwin is waiting for you.”

Harry wiped his mouth delicately with his napkin. Eggsy didn’t normally visit him at the tailor shop, especially after meeting Arthur during his initial measuring. Something about, as Eggsy so eloquently put it, ‘not enjoying bitter old fuckers who just mad they can’t get some.’ Harry had never been privy to Arthur’s romantic life, as a gentleman Arthur never shared, and Harry never asked.

Of course, Harry never told Arthur about Eggsy either. It had been a simple coincidence paired with Eggsy’s unapologetic lack of subtlety. Arthur had been very vocal about his disapproval.

“Still with the boy?” Arthur shook his head, taking a pointed bite of his food.

“Yes, Arthur, just as I was yesterday.” Especially yesterday when Eggsy had been spread out on his bed, naked but for the obscenely expensive shoes Harry had gifted him. Harry wasn’t ashamed that he enjoyed spoiling Eggsy and then fucking him senseless, but Arthur’s judging looks were still getting old.

“If you’ll excuse me,” He smiled at Arthur’s frown benignly. “It’s appears I have an impromptu date.”

Arthur’s face twisted in distaste, but his mouth was full, so he said nothing. Just as well, Harry didn’t want to hear it.

He followed the tailor out to the front of the shop, and they both stopped short.

The sofas were all overturned; one was even thrown halfway across the room. The many lengths of fabric used for Kingsman’s prize bespoke suits were strewn about the floor. There was a pile of smoking ashes in front of the door to dressing room three. Eggsy himself was clutching a robe that was looped around one of the many pairs of antlers. He hung from the ceiling a couple feet above JB, Eggsy’s precious pug.  

Harry gaped at the scene before him for several seconds before Eggsy caught his eye.

“I fuckin’ swear this was an accident!”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hartwinmakesmecryalot said: Hartwin, number 6, please.
> 
> Another for "Is there a reason you're naked in my bed?"

Harryhad taken great care in setting the table for breakfast. Eggsy would have a time navigating the forks, but he would be up to it. For as much as the boy seemed to underestimate his own intellect, Harry knew better. He stepped back, surveying his work. It was simple, but elegant, the perfect sort of meal to learn to eat like a gentleman.

Smiling subtly to himself, Harry went upstairs to wake his charge. They’d been up rather late, when martinis led to a late cigar, and a late cigar led to another Q&A session. Eggsy was particularly interested in Harry’s past, wanted to hear all his old war stories, training stories, he even managed to wheedle out a couple anecdotes from Harry’s childhood.

“Eggsy,” he called out as he untied the knot of his apron. “Eggsy, wake up.”

Harry cracked the door of the guest bedroom then frowned. The bed was made up with military corners, empty of his charge. Harry pulled the door shut and looked down the hall. There were three doors, one to his guest bedroom which was empty, the others to his office, and personal bedroom.

He went to his bedroom and looked inside.

Eggsy had rumpled Harry’s pillows and carefully smoothed comforter into a nest. Harry shook his head, but couldn’t stop a small, fond smile from spreading across his face. “Eggsy, wake up,” Harry pushed the door fully open and went to shake him.

He stopped when he noticed the bedsheet slipping from Eggsy’s side. He blinked, pointedly not looking down when Eggsy snorted awake and the sheet fell away completely.

“Hm? Oh, morning.” Eggsy grabbed the edge of the comforter and pulled it around his shoulders.

“Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?” Harry averted his eyes politely as Eggsy climbed out of the bed, blanket around his shoulders but hiding little, and stretched.

“Borrowed your shower,” Eggsy grinned. “And toothbrush. The bed looked nice so I thought I’d have a little lie down.”

“No pajamas?”

“Was hopin’ you’d come in for a lie down too.” Eggsy dropped the blanket with a raised eyebrow. “Sounds good, yeah?”

It sounded more tempting than anything Harry ever heard. But he hadn’t spent the first several months of their relationship trying to cultivate a strong relationship only to have the issue forced now. It was still a bit too soon.

Harry touched Eggsy’s shoulder and pushed him back with just enough force that sent Eggsy squawking backwards onto the bed. “I’ve made breakfast,” He said, turning to leave. “Get dressed and come downstairs before it gets cold.”

“Love the apron!” Eggsy called after him. 

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based off the first on this list: “1: Harry Hart is a famous actor and also a spy. Eggsy is a very lucky fan.”

Eggsy cleared his throat uncomfortably. He glanced around at all the cops milling around the station. None of them spared him a passing glance; he was walking out after a single phone call. Who the fuck owed his mum a favor?

 

The slouched though the door, wincing a little as the sun hit his face. His first thought was to get home as quick as possible. He’d been gone all night after nicking Rottweiler’s car. Dean was more than likely pissed, and Eggsy wanted to get home before his stepdad took it out on his mum.

 

“Hello Eggsy, would you like a ride home?”

 

Eggsy paused halfway down the steps. He scowled, had Dean sent someone? How did Dean know? “Who are you?” He asked defensively, turning with his surliest look.

 

He immediately regretted it. Tall, trim, pinstripe suit and sensible sunglasses; Eggsy would recognize him anywhere.

 

“A little gratitude—”

 

“ _Holy fucking shit, are you Harry Hart?_ ” Eggsy blurted, immediately becoming aware of his stale breath and day old clothes. Harry Hart as in Eggsy’s favorite actor for the past ten years? As in his biggest source of spank material for the past nine? As in Oscar winning, BAFTA winning, gorgeous actor Harry Hart?

 

“…Yes.” Harry  _fucking_ Hart smiled at Eggsy. “Yes, my name is Harry Hart, I’m also the man who gave you that medal.”

 

Eggsy didn’t squeal.

 

…

 

Eggsy may have squealed.  


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was another AU that no one asked for. I mean serialize this, and if I do I'll turn it into a separate fic.

Most Saturdays found Eggsy at the pub with some mates, hitting the nightlife downtown, or even spending a quiet evening at home with his baby sister. Ever since his stepdad died from liver failure, life had been pretty good. Not great, Eggsy still had run-ins with the law, run-ins with Dean’s old goons, and was bitterly alone (sexually and romantically speaking), but pretty good all things considered.

Or it had been.

“She’s doing it on purpose,” He moaned, collapsing against his new friend’s shoulder. Well, new friend was subjective. One could easily say she was a stranger on the tube who didn’t shove Eggsy to the floor the moment he started drunkenly bitching about his ex. “It’s a fucking conspiracy it is. I ‘aven’t heard from her in what, four years? Why she gonna invite me to her wedding?”

“I thought you said the two of you broke up mutually.” Said the girl with the lovely ponytail that smelled of the flowery shit Eggsy enjoyed.

Had he said they broke up mutually? It was mutual, sorta. It was she got into a good uni and he was gonna join the marines. They’d decided they would pick up where they started after all was said and done. Then he dropped out of basic training and started using, whereas she made the Dean’s List and found a posh arshole who could give her a real future.

“That’s ‘sides the point, Penny,” he huffed.

“Roxy.”

“No,” Eggsy frowned, falling back against the seat as she shrugged him off. He pointed to his face, “Eggsy.”

“Anyway,” Roxy rolled her eyes at his antics. “I still don’t see why you’re so upset. A girl you used to date is getting married, and she thought enough of you to send you an invitation. You don’t even have to go if you don’t want to.”

“Oh she’d like that.” Eggsy said darkly. Or maybe she wouldn’t. Ruth had sent along a note, wishing him well and hoping he’d be there. On the other hand, she had also mentioned that there would only be a two drink maximum. And damn if that wasn’t cold. “She wants to rub her happiness in my face.”

Roxy wrinkled her nose. She had a nice little nose, and even nicer chin. Her whole face was nice. “Rox, let me borrow your face. Then I can go and she can’t rub my face in her happiness.”

It was brilliant, Eggsy was so fucking brilliant. Good job Eggsy. Cheers other Eggsy.

“Are you…asking me to pose as your date?” Roxy raised an eyebrow at him. Had he said that last bit out loud?

“No, but that’s a better idea.” Roxy looked faintly alarmed, but Eggsy was too busy with his genius plan to pay any attention to that. “I show up with someone, no, a fiancé of my own! Ha! What do you think, Roxy, the 25thyeah?”

“The 25th as in tomorrow?”

Eggsy nodded.

Roxy gestured to the luggage at her feet, which, oh yeah Eggsy sort of remembered tripping over that. “Eggsy, I’m on my way to the airport.”

“But Roxy,” Eggsy wailed. “I’ll look like an idiot!”

“And what do you think you look like now?” Roxy glared at him stoically, even when Eggsy hiccupped. “Don’t you have other friends you could ask?”

“Nunna them is posh and pretty.” Eggsy crossed his arms, pouting. “They’re like me.”

And Eggsy certainly wasn’t posh or pretty. He was fit enough, but he was low class bone deep, with a foul mouth, and a fouler expression. And the only people he knew were just like him.

Roxy eyed him closely. Eggsy stared at her chin. “If you… Oh bugger, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Roxy grabbed Eggsy’s face and made him look her in the eye. “Listen, I sort of know what you’re going through. Do you promise that you’ll be respectful and presentable tomorrow, because I swear to God if you embarrass me—”

Eggsy perked up immediately. “Swear down, Rox, I’ll be good. Won’t bring a flask or nothin’.”

She pressed her lips together, seeming to struggle with herself, before she finally pushed him back. “Fine.”

“You’ll do it?”

“I told you, I’m leaving. But I do have a friend, erm, although he is a…man.”

It took Eggsy a full three seconds to understand what she was suggesting. Take a bloke to Ruth’s wedding? How would that look, would that look good? It might, after all, what better way to show he was over her than bein’ a poof. Eggsy had taken the occasional passing glance. Though with a loving fatherly presence like Dean he’d always known better than to act on it; birds became a habit.

“He a pretty, young thing like you?” Eggsy asked the important questions. If he was going to be an impressive poof, he’d still need a sexy date.

“He’s handsome,” Roxy sounded just a little too nervous. Eggsy shifted closer, maybe if he looked in her mouth he could see why. Roxy flinched back, continuing. “Although he isn’t my age. I know him because he owns a tailor shop on Savile Row that my uncles frequent.”

“A tailor shop?” Eggsy flinched back too, doing his best impression of Roxy. “He must be fucking ancient!”

“He’s only just turned fifty!” Roxy protested. “Oh forget it, this was stupid. Why would I offer this? He’s a perfectly lovely man; he had better things to do than go on a date with a little boy who spells of piss ale.”

“Oi, this is Guiness.” Eggsy sniffed weakly. “And it’s just a wedding. He’ll know it’s just a wedding right? Ain’t gonna touch his dick or nothing.”

Roxy kept shaking her head. “No, I take it back.”

“You can’t take it back,” Eggsy tugged on her sleeve. The train began to slow and it threw him off balance. He scrabbled against her and stealing her phone out of her pocket, then he bolted upright in his seat. “Call him, tell him I’ll go. Or he can go.”

Roxy snatched her phone back with a snarl. “Eggsy!”

Somehow Eggsy sensed that he wasn’t approaching this the right way. He held his hands up in surrender, “’M sorry, sorry. Please?” The train lurched to a stop and Eggsy fell back against the rail. Oh fuck he was going to feel all this in the morning. But then, Roxy sighed.

“Alright, I’ll tell you what. I’ll tell him exactly what happened tonight, and if he is interested in doing you this favor, I’ll tell him to meet you somewhere.” She stood up, phone still in hand. “Where?”

“I, uh,” he literally couldn’t remember where he lived. “The Black Prince? In Chelsea?”

“Fine, the Black Prince at ten in the morning. Don’t make me regret this, strange, drunk boy on the tube.”

Eggsy grinned, “Of course not, love.”

-

Eggsy’s mouth tasted like ass. He rolled over only to knock his knees on his bedframe. Apparently at some point he’d managed to get home but at collapsed…half underneath his bed. He groaned, half crawling, have dragging his body out to the middle of his room.

Ooh he felt like shite. He could hold his drinks up and down, but somewhere between the fifth pint and the gin he’d nicked from the Tesco down the road, something must have gone horribly wrong with his liver. Eggsy brought his hand up to block the sun shining through his window. Fucking thing, it were a person he’d fight it.

He blinked, there was writing on his hand.  _The Black Prince 10._ Oh. Oh! Right, he could vaguely remember; bird on the tube offering to send him a granddad to take him to his ex-girlfriend’s wedding.

Eggsy sat up. Then fell back down. His head swam for a moment, before his stomach lurched enough to get him to his feet, running for the toilet.

Shit, Ruth was getting married in a few hours. Eggsy decided to shower and brush his teeth before he thought about anything else. Something smelled rank.

He brushed his teeth in the shower and used a bar of soap on his body and hair. It was quick, but effective, because he’d forgotten to check the time before he was soaking wet. Oh fuck, how late had he slept in? Had his mum even tried to wake him?

Eggsy stumbled out of the shower, haphazardly drying his body as he ran back to his room. Something nice, something nice, the fuck was he supposed to wear to a wedding? He never exactly had much of an occasion to dress up.

He didn’t even want to go in the cold light of day. If that girl, Roxy, hadn’t spent at least four stops listening to Eggsy’s woes, he would have just kipped out on the carpet, avoided the whole thing. But Eggsy isn’t the sort of person to ignore the kindness of a stranger, especially considering his state when receiving said kindness.

After tearing his room apart he finally settled on a light blue button up from an Easter three years ago, and his darkest pair of jeans. Hopefully the wedding wouldn’t be too formal. But then again, it was Ruth. Sure she’d had simple taste, but he knew she always yearned for the elegant.

Eggsy stood in front of his full length mirror, double checking to make sure he looked mostly presentable. He wasn’t the sort of person who could be elegant, he’d be lucky if he could make it to passable. People like him couldn’t do elegant. He looked away to tug on his shoes and check his phone.  _10:01AM_ , fuck.

He dashed out of the apartment, almost tripping on his way down the stairs. It was a ten minute walk to the pub, shorter if he sprinted but then he’d show up sweaty. Eggsy jogged, cursing over and over again. Late to meet a posh old man in a shitty pub to go to a wedding he really wanted to pretend wasn’t happening. The universe was taking some cheap shots these days.

Eggsy was only sweating a little when he turned the corner and saw The Black Prince. There was a cab sitting outside, but the tables outside were empty. Thank God for small miracles, he wouldn’t have to be avoiding Poodle and his muppets.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and slouched through the door. Oh. There were the muppets. Eggsy froze, holding the door open. They were all sitting at the middle table, each with a pint in front of them. It took him a second to notice the blood and bruises, they looked banged the fuck up.

Great, that would give him a running start.

“Oi, Muggsy,” Doberman stood up, cringing noticeably. Eggsy took a step back, but Doberman held out a hand. “Wait, wait, bloke outside was lookin’ for ya.”

“Was he?” Eggsy glared mistrustfully. Someone had fucked them up good and he wasn’t in the mood for their misplaced revenge.  

“Yeah.” Doberman shuffled his feet. “T-tell him we told you, yeah?”

Who the fuck was looking for him, that Poodle’s boys were cowering around a table? Eggsy looked around for an old guy, but it was only them. He looked back at Doberman, “Yeah.”

He backed out of the pub, letting the door swing shut. He still didn’t completely trust them.

Well fuck, his date wasn’t there. Not that he wasn’t surprised, he was late. But at the same time, he wasn’t _that_ late. Eggsy groaned and raked his hands through his hair. Maybe he would skip the wedding after all.

“Excuse me.” There was a man in the cab, he’d opened the door and was regarding Eggsy with a raised eyebrow. “But would you happen to be Eggsy?”

“Who are you?” Eggsy scowled, hunching his shoulders even more.

The man raised his eyebrows, looking briefly annoyed, but then his expression smoothed. “My name is Harry Hart; I was given to understand we were supposed to attend a wedding.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said: Prompt: Lancelot's proposal to Percival happened a lot like Will and Elizabeth's wedding in At World's End.
> 
> Ah yes, the Percilot. Actually have another prompt waiting to be filled in my inbox.

If he was being completely honest with himself, and Percival made it a point to always be honest with himself, marrying James was sort of a foregone conclusion.

They had started as a bit of a whirlwind romance mere months after Percival joined the ranks of the Kingsman agents, and were now seven years into a steady, monogamous relationship. It was strange only in the fact that their job rarely left any room for a life partner, but if said partner was another agent then there was no lying, no sneaking about; only “I’m off to Barcelona tomorrow, try not to get shot while I’m gone.”

It was comfortable and gratifying, and Percival supposed that it helped that James was the love of his life. A bloody trigger happy dolt with a love of pastels, but the only man Percival would ever consider spending the rest of his life with.

Still, when Lancelot’s voice crackled over their comm-link saying, “Percival, marry me!”—Percival’s first response was:

“I don’t think this is the best time.”

James laughed, but the sound was lost in the sound of gunfire and splintering wood. He could laugh all he wanted, but Percival knew his point was valid. After all, they were on opposite sides of a warehouse fighting a seemingly unending barrage of terrorist with a terribly finite number of bullets. It was moments like these, Percival mused, that he really thought about his own mortality.

“Percival,” James said almost too quietly to hear, “This may be the only time.”

Someone, possibly James, threw a fucking grenade and the ensuing explosion caused a ringing in Percival’s ears.

He snarled and leaned low so he could shoot someone in the kneecap. If he had permanent hearing damage someone was going to burn for it. Lancelot loved to put on old vinyl records and insist the sound quality was better. Sometimes he’d even make Percival dance with him in the living room of their shared flat.

Sometimes he’d wake Percival up with donuts clearly bought from down the street and insist he’d made them.

Sometimes he’d called Percival “Percy” and have to dodge a pillow. Sometimes he’d mix it up and call him “Perf-cy.”

Percival swallowed a lump in his throat. “Merlin.”

[ _“The extraction team is five minutes away. Just try and hold out.”_ ]

“No, not that.” Percival checked the chamber of his gun, four bullets left and another round in his jacket pocket. “Marry us.”

James laughed and Percival could hear him over the comm and echoing off the walls. His heart clenched at the thought that they might actually die right there.

[ _“Aren’t you a little busy at the moment?”_ ]

“Never too busy for love, Merlin,” James drawled. “Percy, do you think you could reach the West corner?”

Percival peeked out from his hiding spot. Men were sparse in that direction. “I think so.”

“I’ll meet you there.”

The gunshots picked up again as Percival dashed out from behind the large crate that protected him kneed a man in the gut. He shot him once in the head, then had to duck out of sight when three others spotted him.

Merlin seemed to catch on to their plan, and he said with a small amount of awkwardness. [ _“Dearly beloved, we’re gathered here today?”_ ]

James laughed again, and Percival couldn’t help but smile.

He saw a gun barrel before he saw the person holding it. He jumped up, high to get the man’s head between his thighs so he could twist sharply and break the man’s neck.

“Percival,” James shouted, because someone brought out a semi-automatic machine gun. “Do you take me to be your husband?”

“Yes.” Percival rolled his eyes as James cheered loudly. Honestly, the man had so little subtlety. “Do you take me to be your husband, in sickness and in health—” A bullet grazed his arm and Percival whirled around to fire off two bullets in the chest and stomach of a tall woman. “—Health being the less likely.”

James’ chuckle was warm and grounding. “I do.”

[ _“As Magician I pronounce you married.”_ ]

Percival slid between a giant man’s legs and shot him in the back of the neck. He jumped up and sprinted the last few feet to the corner where James was waiting.

[ _“You may kiss.”_ ]

James grabbed him and pressed a short, but knee melting kiss to Percival’s lips. Buggering, fucking Hell, Percival loved this man.

The extraction team, Bors and Kay, arrived at that moment with a bazooka. James would later call his and Percival’s first kiss as a married couple ‘explosive.’  

 


End file.
